Sins of a Priestess
by BeautyandtheMess
Summary: As a priestess of Apollo, I vowed to remain pure. I vowed to despise those who provoked violence and to honor the gods and my family with my every breath. I also vowed never to love. This, perhaps, is my greatest sin of all. Chapter 6!
1. Fears

A/N: Okay, I know there have been a lot of these written, but I couldn't help to try one of my own! But do you blame me?

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Troy, or any of the characters in the movie.

Sins of a Priestess: Fears

As a priestess of Apollo, I vowed to remain pure. I vowed to despise those who provoked violence and to honor the gods and my family with my every breath. I also vowed never to love. This, perhaps, is my greatest sin of all.

I was there the day Hector and Paris returned from their journey to Sparta. Their main purpose for journeying across the treacherous Aegean was to bring peace between our two great nations. But, young and naïve Paris brought with him the doom of our beloved Troy. I do not blame Paris nor dear Helen, for you cannot chose who you fall in love with. I should know this most of all. Falling in love with the enemy seems to be habit for our family.

I was also naïve however, for I did not know what destruction awaited Troy. I believed strongly in the notion that, behind our high walls, such brutes as the Greeks could not harm us. How terribly wrong I was.

When they attacked, or rather looted the temple of Apollo, I hid in fear. I did not try to stop them from belittling the god I had vowed to honor and protect. This was my first sin. I cowered from the advancing Greeks, until one found me. He called out to his fellow savages. "Looky here men! I found us a nice bitch to have a little fun with!"

"No, we should give her to Achilles! He'll no what to give her!" One replied. I said nothing. The name Achilles was unfamiliar to me, but it sent a foreign chill down my spine. _'What will he do to me?' _I asked myself. What a stupid question! I knew. I knew from the moment those barbarians entered the temple what they would do if they found me! Why else would I hide like a child from their rampant mother?

When one grabbed me roughly by the arm, I tried to pull away, but his grip was too firm. I hit him in the face; he hit me back. There is no decency between enemies. I struggled against their hold as they began to bind my hands and feet. It only earned me more pain. When one of them hit me hard against my head I did not struggle any more.

I vaguely remember one placing me on his horse, and taking me to a black makeshift hut. They took me inside and tied me to the center support beam. I did not move. I did not struggle. I only prayed. Silently I prayed to every god and goddess I had ever been taught the names of. It's funny how we remember all the gods in our times of need, but can never quite recall them when asked in a mere conversation.

In the middle of one of these prayers, I heard a loud cheering coming from outside my prison. The voices of many men were chanting. It only took me a moment to realize they were cheering on their famed champion.

"Achilles! Achilles! Achilles!" They all shouted with pride. I sneered in disgust. How could they be proud of a man who defaced a god's temple? It was no great victory, I could assure them. No priest or priestess had stood as a threat to their 'great' Achilles. Yet, they continued their chanting.

It was then that I realized where I was. Of course, they had brought me to the tent of their great warrior champion! I was his prize, and he would do with me as he wished. Pictures of what he must look like flooded my mind. Thoughts of what he could, and most likely would, do to me wracked my entire body. Tears began to fall down my cheeks.

All hope of being returned to my home was lost. I would never again see my dear Uncle Priam, nor would I ever hug my young cousin Paris. I would never get to hold little Astynax, and tell the reverent Andromache how beautiful he was. I longed to be held in Hector's strong protecting arms once again, but no such comfort was offered to me. I only had myself, and that was not very much at all.

I ceased my tears. I would be strong. I would not let one man frighten me. Somehow, I would survive. These thoughts were somewhat encouraging. Then, I heard footsteps and a man speaking outside the tent. All my previous fears returned. Damn them all! I did not move though, because moving caused the ropes around my wrists and ankles to chafe. I only watched silently as my fate stepped through the straps of leather and into the tent.

A/N: Well hope you like it! Please review, any kind is welcome! This is only my second fanfic, so any criticism is appreciated!

Thanks,

LR


	2. Pride

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. Drat…

Chapter 2: Pride

Perhaps I should have thrown myself at his mercy, though I doubted he had any such thing running through his Greek veins. Maybe I should have begged him to kill me, or at least make haste not to delay what was bound to be my fate. But no, for I am a woman of pride. Damn my pride! This should be my second sin, for my pride stood in the way of everything. Of course, now I see it was not my pride alone. Achilles has sins to.

Achilles, I knew a name, not a face. Greek champion, I knew a legend, not a man. So when name and legend stepped through the leather straps, my previous assumptions of his appearance were diminished. Though, beast's fangs and scales would have saved me a lot of pain.

"The men found her in the temple," a man with black hair and eyes as blue as the sky said to his warrior leader. "They thought she would, _amuse _you." With that he left. I know that my face was the portrait of fear but my pride overruled its actions. I quickly returned to my state of being a stone, a very stubborn stone.

I watched him remove his armor out of the corner of my eye, for I dare not look at him directly. My cheeks burned with a blush as I quickly turned my head opposite the now bare warrior. '_Odd, he does not carry the scars of a warrior with such a famed reputation.' _I thought absently. Even my cousin Hector, prized warrior of the Trojan army, carried a battle scar along his right cheek. As quickly as these thoughts entered my head, I dismissed them. I could not dwell on things such as these.

"What is your name then?" He asked gruffly to his wash bin. For a moment I forgot of his unclothed state and looked at him with a face that said everything I felt towards him. Hate, anger, despise, pity, more hate, somehow I managed them all in one. I'm sure it would have effected him had he seen it, but his backside did not have eyes. I turned away again, stubborn stone.

He turned to me now. His tanned skin pulled over large muscles that could surely end my inward battle with one blow to the head. He did not though. There are many forms of torture. "Even priestesses of Apollo have names." He offered. Stubborn stone. I cautiously glanced at his face as he stooped level with my bound form. I was thankful to find he had adorned a royal blue wrap around his lower half. "Royalty, aren't you? Used to talking down to men and having them appease your every need." My face distorted in disgust as he picked up a lock of my brunette hair and brought it to his nose. He dropped it without interest. "Definitely royalty."

'_Very sure of yourself, aren't you? You know nothing of royalty, you ignorant, gods for saken, pompous bastard.' _Fear overtook me once more as the stooping figure pulled a dagger from his side. He moved it to cut the binds that chafed my wrists, not my throat. For a moment I was grateful, but only a moment.

I rubbed my sore hands as I eyed the man that was now my captor. His blonde locks were matted and hung the length of his chin. His face was chiseled, and stone. I was used to the look of a warrior. The crystal blue eyes were a novelty though. They were full of pride, glory, everything I could think a man like him would have in his egotistical mind. But, there was something else. Something I have never been able to place a name to.

"Are you afraid?" His question jolted me out of my reverie. _'What do you think? I'm in the tent of my country's greatest enemy! My life is bound to be a living Hades for what is left of it, and I have lost all hope of returning to my family and high walled haven! Yes! For all the bloody gods in this world and the next sakes, I'm afraid!'_

"Should I be?" My pride answered for me.

"You do not have to fear me, priestess. You are the only person in Troy who can say that." He said standing up. _'Wonderful.'_

"My lord," The man with the black hair had returned. "The king requests your presence in his tent. The kings are celebrating the victory." Achilles looked at me once more, as if he expected to read me like a book. I would not let him. My _pride_ would not let this man near me. I glared at him from my feeble position. For a moment, I thought I saw his mouth twitch in what would have been a smile, but it could have been the dim lighting in the tent.

"Very well," he said as if it were an obligation that he would much rather ignore than oblige. He stood and once again donned his armor. I did not watch him. When he finally made his way out of the leather straps that covered the door, relief washed over me and I let out the breath I had not noticed I'd been holding. "Stay here." Came his ruff order outside the tent.

'_Does he expect me to listen to such an order?'_ Of course he did. Here, outside of Troy, in the midst of Greek soldiers that held him on a pedestal as if he were a god, his word was law. To them. Not to me. It would never be to me, I would make sure of it.

As I made to crawl to the entrance, the straps of leather parted. I looked to what I thought would be Achilles, come to give me more orders. But I was wrong. For Achilles, dare I say it, would have been a more comforting sight.

A/N: Well, I hope I have lived up to all of your standards! I didn't think I would get so many reviews for this story! Thanks so much for reading, and remember that another review is always appreciated! Speacial Thanks to the following for reviewing and giving me some encouraging feedback... mostly. Lol!

queenieb, vocalise, ellornel, fireflydiamond, baphomet, Loke, Nikki Staggerwall, willspiratelass(love your name by the way!), Pandora 11, Mrs. M, SarahMo, Via, preciousbabyblue, TriGemini, troublegirl, and of course George's-Secret-Lover for your support!

NightbirdSongbird, as one of my other reviewers has pointed out, my story is under Troy, pertaining to the movie that was made, not Homer. I am aware that the script of the movie did not follow Homer's poem to a T but I didn't write the script, I only wrote the fanfic. Thanks for your review though!

Thanks,

LR


	3. Hate

A/N: Sorry I have not updated in a while, I've been at camp, which is where I will be next week. So I don't expect being able to update for another while. I am truly sorry, but I will do my best to update as soon as possible!

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

Chapter 3: Hate

If I was anything like my brave cousin Hector, I would have stood my ground and fought until my last breath. If I was anything like my handsome cousin Paris, I could have used my charm to flee from violence. If I was anything like my wise uncle Priam, I would have delegated the situation and been able to talk my way out of any sort of confrontation. Alas, I am like none of them. I am a coward and that is exactly what I acted like.

Two burly Greek soldiers entered through the leather straps. Fear enveloped me as I slowly moved away from the strangers. One sneered at me, apparently knowing something I did not.

"Dirty Trojan whore," one of them laughed, "sure Agamemnon will have a use for her!" he directed toward the other. The biggest started toward me, laughing.

"If he doesn't, I would be glad to take her off his filthy greedy hands. Not like he's given us anything else worth all the fighting we do. Now," he said turning his filthy Greek head toward me. War had not been friendly to him; but then again it was only friendly to the winning king. "It would be in your best interests to not fight, bitch."

"Why are you trying to talk to her? She probably can't even understand you! Remember, she is a Trojan!" They both laughed haughtily at this. I could feel my blood boil with anger. '_Do they think the Trojan people are ignorant idiots? How dare they!'_

"You filthy pigs! You have no right to even set foot on Trojan soil! You…" I did not have time to continue my rant, for the largest man's hand connected with my lower lip before I could utter another curse. I swore to avenge my people, though I had no earthly idea of how I would manage it.

"Looks like she can talk, but I'm sure Agamemnon will change her tone." At this the two men seized my arms and began to drag me bodily out of the tent. I struggled with all my might. I did not want set eyes on their _stupid _king, who had brought so much destruction and distraught to my people.

"Let me go! You insipid beasts!" My voice was becoming strained from my screams of distress. The burly soldiers continued to tow me toward a ship that had been covered in a large ambiguous tent. There was no doubt in my mind that was where the bastard of a king was calling his temporary home. On Trojan sand, no less.

By this time we had gathered an audience. Soldiers were gathered around the path to the tent, laughing in their blunt way. They had come to see the 'stupid Trojan whore' that was now the prize for their king, instead of their champion. _'Let them laugh,'_ I thought bitterly,_ 'Apollo will have his revenge. Then they will laugh. Then they will see. Those grins will be wiped clean of their dirty Greek faces.'_

I continued to kick and scratch the two soldiers carrying me all the way to the boat-tent. There they stopped outside a large entrance flap. One of them slapped me across my face and I quieted momentarily. I could here voices coming from inside. One of them was vaguely familiar; the other was completely undistinguishable.

"Better have nicer manners with _him,_ he's not as agreeable as we are," one of them snickered. I spat in his face, as a response. He did not have time to strike me though, for a guard at the tent had signaled for our entrance. On instinct, I began to struggle again as the soldiers' grip on my arms tightened. I knew I would have bruises.

"The spoils of war," I heard a falsely smooth voice say. It was dripping with pleasure and sarcasm. I struggled again as I came into the view of a large room, lavishly decorated. My eyes darted past the figure of a large man, fashioned much like the room. This was Agamemnon, a dog of a king and my country's worst enemy. I hated every piece of this man before me, and had it not been for the two soldiers that held me so tightly I would have made sure he knew it.

But my eyes came to rest on the man in the middle of the room, Achilles. He was watching me, his blue eyes boring into mine. I shot him a look of disgust before turning back to Agamemnon.

"Release her at once," Achilles ordered the men holding me. Agamemnon laughed half-heartedly.

"I have taken what I wished from the temple of Apollo. I think she will be quite enjoyable company, don't you Achilles?" He grinned wickedly at me. I began to struggle again. All I wanted to do was drown out his voice. I could not bear to hear him speak for it brought anger searing through my Trojan veins.

I stopped mechanically as the slash of metal resounded throughout the tent. The men's grip on my arms loosened in their surprise. Achilles was at the ready with his sword held prepared for death, in the middle of the tent. What was he thinking? Greeks were obviously stupider than I had imagined. That, or this particular Greek had been dropped on his too many times as a child. I went with the latter.

"I said release her." Achilles ordered once more. I took this chance to get away from the soldiers' grasp. When I turned, all eyes were on me. Now, I am nothing like my cousins, as I have said, so I am not used to being the center of attention. My hatred for every man in the room was slowly, and unwillingly, overpowered by my duty as a priestess. Damn me for becoming a priestess.

"STOP!" I yelled. To my surprise, everyone did. I turned and looked Achilles straight in the eye. All I saw was blue, and for a moment, I was lost. But my thoughts rushed back to me as he gave me a look of question. "Too many men have died today." I said thinking back on the priests and the soldiers at the temple. "If killing is your only talent, that is your curse. I won't have anyone dying for me."

For a moment no one said anything. I did not notice though, for I was lost once again. However hard I tried, I could not look away from the blue eyes. They were a mixture of surprise, anger, entertainment, and something I could not place. I returned with a look of stone reverence.

"Well, well, well, the mighty Achilles, silenced by a slave girl." Agamemnon laughed again. Achilles stood straight again, his blade falling to his side. I could see my hatred for the king mirrored in his eyes. Perhaps we had more in common than I thought.

Agamemnon moved past Achilles and over towards me. He carried the distinct smell of sweat and wine. I turned my face in disgust as he picked up a lock of my hair and sniffed. "Tonight, I'll have her give me a bath, and then," he turned towards Achilles, "who knows?" Achilles stiffened as he brought his blade up to point directly at Agamemnon.

"Before my time is done, I will stand over your corpse and smile." He said. For once, I believed a Greek. With that he put his sword away. Agamemnon dropped my hair and motioned to the two soldiers. Again I felt their fingers baring into my arms as they carried me towards the back of the tent. I struggled only a little as I looked over my shoulder.

Achilles watched me as I left. His eyes were filled with rage. I can only imagine the look of distress that was on my face. In all truth, I would have rather let the soldiers beat me to death than go to Agamemnon's bed. But I had no choice. Hate filled me once more as we turned a corner and I could no longer see the blue eyes. I realized that a small comfort had been taken away, and that now I was truly on my own.

A/N: Well, what do you think? Mabye not as good as the last and probably not exactly the same as the script, but I hope you liked it! Please review and tell me what you think!

Thanks, LR


	4. Alone

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Chapter 4: Alone

_'Apollo, give me strength.' _The words had run through my head countless times over the last hour. In all actuality I had no idea of the time that had gone by. I only knew that my imprisonment in Agamemnon's tent was proceeding longer than I would have cared for. The image of Achilles watching me being carried away, and the thoughts of what would happen to me when Agamemnon returned kept flashing in my mind's eye.

The soldiers had dragged me bodily into a dark room near the rear of the ship. They clumsily bound my hands and feet as I sat uncomfortably on the hard wood floor. They laughed to themselves at my dispense as one gagged me with a dirty rag. The taste of strong vinegar burnt my lips and tongue. I began to choke, but it only pained my throat more.

"That's only a small taste of what the Trojan army 's gonna get tomorrow." The bigger of the two said. With a sick grin he took out his knife and advanced towards me. For a moment I thought he was going to slit my throat. Fear engulfed my entire body as I watched him put the tip of the blade to the bridge of my nose. A trail of blood ran down my nose over my lips as he removed his dagger. Both soldiers left, and once again I was left to deal with the dangerous thoughts that lurked in the shadows of my mind.

Now, I wish the soldier had taken mercy on me and slit my throat. It would have been an easier, less stressful death than that which was to be mine in time. Until then, I was forced to sit in the dark, awaiting the tyrant that had brought terror to my city and my people.

Tears flowed like streams down my cheeks now. Alone, I let all my fear and hatred drain out of me. I sobbed bitterly as I remembered every dirty Greek face I had seen since my capture. I swore on my life that before my time on earth was done I would watch them fall. I gasped as I realized what I had just done. I was a priestess of Apollo! I could not feel hatred for these men, I was supposed to pity them! But I found no such emotion in my heart as I remembered the way they had dragged me, touched me, and destroyed the temple in which I had pledged to find that pity for them!

I closed my eyes in an effort to control myself. I would not think of those pigs anymore. They wasted my time and my energy. I...I would think of...of, Paris! Yes, my dear cousin! I remembered the days when Paris and I, close in age, would explore the palace together and engage in other sorts of trouble that would ultimately get us caught by Hector. We would steady ourselves for the reprimand we were sure to receive for our misbehavior, but most of the time he would just laugh at our predicament and then send us on our way. I laughed to myself at the memory, but it was not happy enough to lighten the constant flow of salty water that now covered my face and dampened the rag in my mouth.

Faintly, I could hear Paris' laugh, and see his bright smile. I could see Hectors loving eyes as he held baby Astynax in his strong warrior arms. At times it was almost comical to see such a precious babe in the arms of such a brutal fighter. I heard Andromache's soothing voice as she pacified Astynax in his crib. I would never get to watch him grow into the man he was sure to become.

Slowly, I felt myself slipping into the arms of sleep. I was exhausted from my worry and knew it was better for me to sleep than stay awake, dreading what was to come. I returned to remembering how things used to be, for it was more comforting than anything else I could think of. I could see Uncle Priam, even in his old age, sitting high above his city with admiration painted on his face. I felt myself slipping into blackness, the dark cover of sleep. I even saw Helen. Her beautiful face smiling as she watched Paris practice his archery. She loved him, I knew, but I could not help but let a part of me blame her for all that had happened. _All that would happen_, I thought as my mind finally fell silent.

A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed! I love getting you guys' feedback! I know this one was short and that it took a long time to get on here but I've been on vacation. I'm very sorry! Hopefully the next chapter will come soon!

Thanks, LR


	5. Hearing Evil

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, okay?

Chapter 5: Hearing Evil

My eyes fluttered open against the bright light streaming in from a crack in the wall. I sat upright, fear enveloping me as I remembered where I was. '_Oh Gods! Why couldn't it have been a nightmare?_' I thought to myself, my mind racing once more. With the scant light of morning I could see the room in which I had been thrown into. It was more like a wooden box than a room for it only had one door and nothing else. There were a few barrels but other than myself the box was bare.

I was washed with relief as I remembered that the pig Agamemnon had not come to take me, or to make me give him a bath as he had threatened. My mind flashed back to Achilles; he had stood up for me against the guards and Agamemnon. If I had not stopped him he surely would have proceeded to slit each of their throats in my honor. _'Maybe I should not have stopped him.' _I thought as I pictured The Pig lying on the ground, his neck severed.

But why had Achilles stood for me in the first place? _'Because he wanted me for himself.' _I cringed as the thought registered. Achilles had not done it out of kindness. No, I had come to the conclusion that no such emotion could be found in the Greek champion's heart long ago, or atleast, yesterday. He had done it out of jealousy! There was no other explanation.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE REFUSES TO FIGHT! I OWN HIM! HE CANNOT DEFIY ME!" An angry voice came from the other side of the door. I jumped in surprise at the outburst, but my curiosity got the better of me. I slowly crawled across the hard floor and put my ear to the door.

"Achilles and his men refuse to fight, sir." A male voice said meekly.

"I KNOW THAT!" The angry voice shouted again. It was Agamemnon, I knew. "BUT WHY IN THE GODS' NAME WON'T HE?"

"Be-be-because sir, h-h-he…" the other man started.

"Never mind. I don't need him or his men. I have a war to win. Hector and his men will all lay dead by sunset, and Achilles will have had nothing to do with it!" I gagged as bile rose in my throat. I had managed to remove the rag they had stuffed in my mouth earlier, but now my stomache churned at the thought of my cousin, dead. Hector couldn't die! No! "That old dolt Priam will be on his knees begging me to spare him! My brother will have his wife and that idiot Paris' hide as a new rug!"

"NO!" I sobbed. I couldn't suppress my cries. I had to stop this mad man before he destroyed my entire family! "Not Hector! Don't hurt Paris!" I banged on the door in my sorry attempt to stop the entire Greek army. I heard a venomous laugh from the other side of the door.

"Stupid priestess! You think your pitiful cries can stop me! Your precious city will be burnt to the ground by nightfall, and I will make sure you have a front row seat to the show!" He laughed as he kicked the door. I screamed in agony as I heard him exit.

"HECTOR!" I screamed, though I knew no one could hear me. No one could save me. No one could save my city. I felt myself slip to the floor, my body racking with dry sobs. "Why Apollo? Why?" I asked the God that I had pledged myself to. "What have we done, what have I done, to deserve this?"

When I was young and foolish, someone had told me that the Gods did things for a reason, and that everyone had a place in their plan. What was the reason for this? How did my city's destruction fit into the 'plan'? Was my place here, in this dark box? I made up my mind that I had been lied to. There was no Apollo, no Zeus, nothing. We were all alone, and I had lived a lie thus far in my life.

With this new conclusion I was given a new form of calm. My sobs were silenced and I waited for death to take me. I imagined what Paris would have done if he had known what I was doing. He would have laughed at me, for I was always the one defying what everyone said. Now, I was giving in. I was excepting what was happening without a struggle.

I imagined his grin and taunting laugh. He was always the one to push me to stand my ground. "There's nothing to stand for anymore, Paris. Nothing to have hope for. We are alone." Who was I talking to? Had I finally let my mind slip away? A new wave of tears began to flow from my eyes. I only ceased when I heard the footsteps of many men outside the ship I was being kept in.

I crawled toward the crack that had let the light in earlier. I squinted against the sun to see the entire Greek army in front of me. They were prepared for battle, clad in armor and each carrying a different weapon of slaughter. I felt bile rise in my throat as I saw some of them laughing. Agamemnon had obviously convinced them that this would be a war easily won.

'None of them have ever seen Hectors men, obviously. Otherwise they would be shaking in their boots!' I thought as I watched them. I mentally cursed each of them as they passed. I had to do something! Even if there weren't any Gods, atleast I could do something.

I began to claw at the small crack, making an effort to try to make it bigger. Small splinters came off between my nails and I sucked in a quick breath of air in pain. This wasn't one of my brightest ideas. I turned to the room and began to search for some way out. The only way seemed to be the door, but I knew better than to think that there wasn't a guard on the other side.

I slumped to the floor again, just focusing on breathing as I listened to the distant marching of the imminent force on it's way to destroy everything I had ever loved. I held my breath as the marching ceased. I could faintly make out a voice shouting something. Then there was silence.

Had we given up? Had Hector surrendered to the overpowering force of the Greek army? Then there was yelling. Cheering of some sort. There was no sound of movement besides the banging of shields, no stampeding mass. What was happening? All of a sudden there was laughter filling the tense air. Laughter! What in Hades was going on out there! I was about to begin ripping at the crack again when silence once again fell on everything, but this time it was _dead _silence. (A/N: This was during the fight between Paris and Menalous. Poor Paris. sighs)

A loud, sorrowful cry rang out over the sand hills and met my ears. Someone had died, someone important, I was sure of it. The stampede of foot soldiers sounded in the air, followed by agonizing cries of pain. I covered my ears. I couldn't listen anymore. Men were dying! I could only hope that they were not Trojan men.

"Please! Stop it! Forgive them! What do you want from them? From me?" I cried to Apollo. I had to believe, now, that there was some purpose for this. _'Is this punishment for Paris' love? For Hector's foolishness of not making him take Helen back?' _My mind raced for an explanation, but none came.

I don't know how long I prayed, but I didn't cease until I heard the sound of men's feet running over the sand hills. I got to my knees to look out of the crack that was now my only source to the outside world. I watched as men with arrows in their limbs limped through the camp. Others carried only sweat as a sign that they had been in battle. Some were carrying others on stretchers, their blood staining the sand as they were carried along.

'They are all Greek! They retreated! We've won!' I truly believed that Hector had led Troy to a great victory, and that the war was over. The filthy pigs would get back on their Gods for saken boats and go back to Hades where they belonged. I was naïve to the fact that the worst was yet to come. So much more would come.

A/N: If you didn't know most of this chapter takes place during the first large battle in the movie, and while Paris tries to defeat Menalous (did I spell that right?). So I hope this one made up for the short last chapter. Please review! I need all the help I can get! Next Chapter: The return of Achilles! Yeah!

Thanks, LR


	6. Calm in the Storm

A/N: Thanks to all the encouraging reviews! I hope this chapter pleases to!

Elven Sword: Thank you for the critic, after reading back over my last chapter I realize the repetitiveness of it. I tried very hard to make this chapter a little less, um, sad? Well, anyway, I hope that this chapter is better. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, so get off me.

Chapter 6: Calm in the Storm

A/N: This chapter begins with a dream and then goes back before the dream. I hope it's not that confusing! lol

I was in a torrent, clouds circling me, slowly constricting, taking away my breath. My head throbbed with a steadily growing pain. My hair whipped at my face, slapping it harshly. I felt emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

I turned my head and, in the distance, saw my beautiful city of Troy. But it was no longer the inviting white walls behind which my beloved family was held. No, it was a large and looming force with shadows traveling along the tops of the walls.

I heard, or rather felt, them beckoning me to come to them. I began to steadily make my way through the clouds, but the closer I came to my home the tighter the clouds wound around my wrists and ankles. Beyond the throbbing pain that filled my ears with a constant thudding, I heard thunder in the space around me. The thunder sounded oddly familiar, like a low laugh, and made me pause in my flight to my city.

Instead I turned away to the darkness behind me. The darkness began to shape into the figure of a man. I could not make out a face, but could follow the lines of his broad shoulders and muscular arms. I watched as the man stretched a hand towards me. I felt my hand moving upwards against my own will. I felt the man's fingers close around my own. Suddenly, my lungs filled with cold air that they had since been deprived of, the clouds no longer holding their death grip on me.

A light flashed against the darkness and across the man's shadowed face. I caught just a glimpse of startling blue eyes. They were not Hector or Paris' warm chocolate brown, but yet a familiar blue. I gasped as I felt something tighten around my middle and jerk me backwards. I moved away from the clasp of the comforting and reassuring hand, which had seemed the only calm in the storm I found myself in.

Earlier in the day:

I waited in my box until I heard voices in the next room. I recognized one as Agamemnon's immediately, but I assumed the other belonged to one of his advisors.

"How could this have happened! A retreat? A retreat!" Agamemnon exclaimed as paced or rather stomped, around the room that the door to my box-prison was connected to. I listened as I heard him curse Hector and his army. My hope rose as I listened to The Pig's swearing. "I have the greatest army in the world! How could we have had to retreat? And what about my brother? Have I honored his death by Hectors sword by ordering my men to run for their lives?"

My heart filled with uneasy joy as I figured the meaning of his words. Helen's husband, Menelaus, had been killed by Hector. This gave the Greek army no reason to stay in Troy! They would surely leave and never return to my city, leaving Troy in peace. I was elated with this news, but had no idea of the damage done to Paris' pride with Hectors killing of Agamemnon's brother.

"Your majesty sir, the men are quite low in spirits after today's… mishap. They need something to cheer them up, and give them hope for the next battle." The advisor said. _'The next battle?'_

"Um, uh, yes, right." Agamemnon blundered. "Well, give them some drinks. Alcohol will surely lighten their mood and get their mind off the re—mishap."

"Yes sir. Perhaps some sort of entertainment could be in order also."

"Surely, yes, um, give them the girl, the priestess. I have no use for her. She should entertain them for tonight. Tell them to do as they please with her. She is Trojan, and should be shown no mercy." Agamemnon said carelessly. My heart quickened to a rapid pace inside my chest and I began to back away from the door.

'Oh Gods! Please no! Don't let them—' I heard the click of the lock on the door. I glanced around, frantically looking for a way out. There was none. The door opened and a large soldier sneered as he came towards me. He raised a large wooden stick in the air bringing it down to the base of my head. As I opened my mouth to scream, everything went black.

Later that day at sunset:

My eyes burnt against the harsh light of the sun as my eyelids fluttered open. Two soldiers were carrying me through the Greek camp, as I had been unconscious for the past few minutes. My head throbbed with the pain from where the soldier had hit me earlier. My stomach growled as I realized how hungry I was.

While being dragged through the sand, I caught a glance of Troy. Its walls still stood tall, glowing in the setting sunlight. A fire I thought long extinguished rekindled to life as my pride surged through me. We had won the battle, though not the war. Troy's walls still stood against Agamemnon and his army, and therefore gave hope to all those who were sheltered behind them.

I vaguely heard the two soldiers laughing as they dragged me across the sand. I set my jaw and dug my heels into the ground. I let my complete weight plus the resistance of my firmly planted feet upon the soldiers. They merely faltered slightly in their steps. I was enough though, for me to grab a handful of the sand, which had been heated by the day sun.

When one of the soldiers went to strike me for my stupidity, I threw the sand up into his face, stinging his eyes. He cursed wildly while his counter part laughed at his apparent discomfort. I took this opportunity to kick him squarely in the loins. He doubled over in pain as the other soldier stumbled blindly, still cursing me with his every breath. A part of me wanted to stay and reprimand him that Apollo would not appreciate such swearing in his name, but thankfully I thought better of it and quickly made a run for it.

I sprinted for all my worth toward my city, hoping against hope that one of the guards on the walls would se me still in my priestess robes and alert Hector. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the corpses scattered along the plain staining the sand with both Greek and Trojan blood. Their armor was the only thing that told of their differences.

Did they even know what they had been fighting for? For love? For greed? For pride? I felt a sickening feeling rising in my stomach. They never knew, but they had readily given their life for their countries and kings. _'For Helen.' _I couldn't help but think bitterly.

I turned and readily vomited on the soldier that had followed me. He cursed me as he grabbed my arm in a bruising hold. My throat burned while my mouth was filled with the bitter taste of my own waste. I cried in pain when the soldier abruptly grabbed my hair, throwing my head back, forcing me to look him in the face.

"You Trojan brat! Wha' do you think you are doing? Fighting Greek soldiers like that will only get you more pain! You are stupider than that crackpot Priam! Well Agamemnon has decided you should cheer up the men, and not by reading them poetry, if you catch my drift. What do you have to say now, whore?" He spat in my face, obviously not expecting me to say anything to him after he belittled me and dishonored my uncle. Me! The cousin of Paris the Charmer not say anything? Ha! You must be joking!

"Apollo forgive you. He must understand that you are merely a wild dog with fleas, following your cruel and ignorant pig of a master's commands. I do believe Apollo has a soft spot for _fleas_." I said through clenched teeth, mirroring the much larger man with my glare. He sputtered momentarily before delivering a blow to my head that sent me sprawling to the ground.

"Whore! Bitch!" He yelled as I began to pick myself of the sand.

"Surely one of you _must_ have thought of another name for me by now other than bitch and whore, for I assure you I am neither." I replied curtly from my bent position. I immediately received a kick to my stomach. _'You had to go there didn't you?'_

"She's all yours men, have with her what you will." He spat on me and turned to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as men made their way to my crumpled body, like lions to their fallen prey.

It hurt for me to breathe. I knew I had a bruised rib, but with darkness falling I could see the lights of Troy burning, keeping it in a peaceful glow. And so, my own fire still burned.

A/N: Well, what do you think? Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know with a review! You know, just click that little button down there and type what you think!

Thanks, LR


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